Rhode had been grounded in his room for several days already.

Though grounding was a common disciplinary measure in noble households,

honestly? It was utterly, painfully boring.

Thankfully, he wasn’t banned from reading—saving him from going stir-crazy.

Ugh. Grounded over something as ridiculous as offending a princess.

"Rhode."

Shilo pushed the window open furtively and whispered his name.

Rhode, who’d been lying in bed, instantly sat up at the sound.

He scrambled to the windowsill in seconds, eyes bright with hope.

"Books?" Rhode murmured.

"Books."

"Novels?"

"Novels."

"Which one?"

"This one," Shilo whispered back.

Rhode shot him a thumbs-up—silent praise.

Just as the twins finalized their hush-hush exchange, a hand landed gently on Shilo’s head.

"What sneaky business are you two up to?"

"Mother!?" Shilo froze—panic flooding his face.

*We’re busted.*

"Do you really need to look *that* terrified, Shilo?" the woman asked, smiling softly.

Shilo stammered, gaze darting.

"It’s fine. Just passing books to Rhode."

He peeked at her—no anger in her eyes.

"Rhode."

"Here!" Rhode snapped to attention.

"A gift for you." She placed an exquisitely carved notebook on his head.

Rhode took it, flipping through blank pages.

*Perfect for notes… though the cover’s too beautiful for just journaling.*

"Why?" he asked, puzzled. *A gift while I’m punished?*

"Just felt like it."

"Does being grounded by your father upset you?" she sighed.

"Doesn’t matter." *Grounded or not—the only difference is whether I can go out to buy things.*

"Mother… what about me?" Shilo pointed at himself, hopeful.

"Yours later."

"..." Shilo’s shoulders slumped.

"Now hand him the book too."

Shilo quickly passed the novel over.

"Don’t let your father find out," she whispered, finger to her lips.

"Never!" Shilo vowed earnestly.

Rhode said nothing—just clutched the notebook and novel, spinning in a tiny, joyful circle.

"Mother! I also—" Rhode paused, about to ask how many days remained.

"Yes, Rhode?"

"Nothing… just… I have so many novels left to read."

"Read them one by one. Don’t rush," she said, reaching through the window to ruffle his hair.

Rhode inherited his love of books from her.

She knew that—and never saw reading as wrong.

Others called him irresponsible.

Only after she led Shilo away did Rhode flop onto his bed, staring quietly at his treasures.

"I’ll use it as a journal," he decided.

*Too precious for novels… but perfect for capturing fleeting ideas.*

He tucked the notebook beside his pillow and opened the novel.

---

"Doraf, perhaps lift Rhode’s grounding?"

"He’ll be involved later. Not now."

"I know you think Rhode is mischievous…" the woman hesitated, pressing on.

As his wife, she knew what loomed ahead—what *Shilo* would face.

"Grounding him *is* protection."

"Their target is Shilo. Our focus must be on him," Doraf said, pinching his brow.

"We lack the capacity to watch Rhode too."

"Guards surround his room. He’s safe."

"And safer *inside*. You know how restless he is."

"..." Silence.

"Trust me—they’ll both be safe," Doraf murmured.

"Alright…" As a mother, she hated it.

But she held no final say in the family.

Doraf clearly found confining the notoriously energetic Rhode far more convenient.

"Once this passes, peace will return," Doraf assured. *Any assassin who comes won’t leave alive.*

Her plea changed nothing.

She stood in the hallway, gaze lost ahead.

Both were her flesh and blood—equally precious.

Yet in that talk… she *had* prioritized Shilo’s safety.

And that truth ached.

That night, Rhode slept soundly, hugging the notebook to his chest.

Only ten, yet he understood the household’s currents—why others saw him as they did.

Always treated differently.

But—

That never dimmed his love for family.

His affection held no shadows.

His heart was clear as a cloudless sky—so pure it made yours ache.

Why someone who loves to smile *does* smile… has always been a complicated question.